Breathe. Just breathe.
Nina had to squint at the bright sunlight streaming into the room through a wall of floor to ceiling glass windows. Even with most of those windows angled open to catch the summer breeze it was still almost uncomfortably warm.
"Over here please," the instructor, a short heavyset man with a handlebar mustache and comb over to hide his bald spot called.
Nina nodded and tried to control her trembling while she padded barefoot over to the raised stage at the front of the room. The walk seemed to take forever with her eyes riveted to the far wall to keep from glancing around until she stepped up the wooden step and onto the stage.
"Robe?" the instructor asked, his voice surprisingly mild and sympathetic.
Nina took a deep breath while still staring at the far wall.
Breathe. Just breathe.
After a moment Nina shrugged the robe off her shoulders and slipped her arms out before handing it to the instructor who gave her an encouraging smile.
"Alright, now if you'll please turn I'd like you to lean your right hand on the wall here and bring your right foot up and across your left knee to rest on this stool," the instructor said.
It was harder for Nina to control her breathing as she turned, her eyes now glued to the door she had just stepped through a minute before. She could see more than a dozen people packed into the room from the corner of her eye and felt herself trembling. She licked dry lips and leaned over to place a hand against the wall as instructed before bringing her right foot up to rest on the indicated stool.
"No... ummm, bring your foot up so that you're on your toes please," the instructor said and then reached down to take Nina's foot in his hand and lift so that it was positioned exactly how he wanted.
Nina fought back a gasp of surprise at the sudden touch, her teeth biting into her lower lip at the feel of a hand softly cradling her foot. Nina couldn't help but gasp when she felt fingertips trailing slowly over her arch before the instructor stepped back.
"Ok, now, I want you to reach down with your left hand and cup the curve of the bottom of your foot, press your palm into your arch with your fingers over the ball," the instructor said while watching closely, "good, now bring your thumb around the instep as if you were holding your foot."
The instructor stepped back to examine Nina, her face heating in embarrassment as his eyes traveled up and down her body.
Breathe. Just breathe.
"Good," the instructor said briskly and stepped up to Nina, "I'm going to move your hair if that's fine with you."
Nina gave a small jerk of a nod before the instructor stepped up to take her chin and move her head down and to the side. Once he had her head situated he began to drape her long, blond hair that came down to the center of her back so that it flowed over her right shoulder to hang down towards the stage. After one more critical look the instructor picked up a gauzy white cloth before draping it over her right arm and shoulder. From the corner of her eye Nina could see that the cloth was nearly transparent and hung down to her hips and even over the side of her right breast without doing anything to conceal her. She bit her lip while glancing down at how obvious her dark brown areola was through the gauzy material or the way her hard nipple dimpled the fabric.
"That's perfect," the instructor finally declared while taking a step back to admire Nina's pose, "Now, I want you to remember exactly how you're standing.
"We'll give you a break every fifteen minutes or so to walk around, stretch, take a drink of water or what have you, but I want you to remember exactly how you are so that you can get back into the exact same pose after each break.
"Ok?"
Nina gave another small, jerky nod, her eyes now fixated on the legs of an easel and a pair of Teva's beneath it at the front of the classroom. She found herself focusing on the Teva's and the pair of petite feet with a French pedicure, the bright daylight highlighting the brilliant white edges of the toenails against tanned, caramel skin.
Breathe. Just breathe.
Even in the warm classroom Nina could still feel herself trembling, her skin covered in goosebumps that had nothing to do with the temperature. She could feel the beginning of tears, her eyes damp while she stared at the brilliant white of the unseen girl's toenails. She tried to ignore the feel of warm air blowing across her inner lips, her face heating in embarrassment at the thought of those large, wrinkly lips that always poked out a little between the crease of her sex being visible to everyone in the room. She always waxed, loved the silky smooth feel of her smooth mound, but now wished with all her heart for a thick, unkept bush to hid herself with.
Yesterday this had seemed like such a brilliant idea, an unbelievably easy and simple way for her to cover rent for the month and even have money left over.
But now...
Breathe. Just breathe.
Minutes passed with the only sound the soft click of pencils and brushes being set aside, the shuffle of papers as someone flipped through notes, a soft cough and the occasional murmur of the instructor's voice as he walked between the easels.
A dog barked outside, a warm breeze blowing through the open widows and across Nina's trembling body.
"Would you like a break?" the instructor suddenly asked from beside the stage.
Nina jerked, surprised that the time had slipped by that quickly and gave a small shake of her head no. Without moving her head she let her eyes search the far wall until she found a clock face, the minute hand fifteen minutes past the hour.
A large mirror caught her eye, the reflection letting her see the sketches and drawings on some of the easels in the room. Sketches of a tall, lithe woman perched on one foot while holding her other in her hand with a narrow waist and ample breasts, face hidden by a wave of silken hair and a gossamer shawl over one arm to spill down her body. Nina's mouth opened in a small O of surprise as she glanced from easel to easel.
Many of the sketches she could see only had her with no background or setting, but she found one where she was standing in a forest glade with shafts of light shining down on her figure. In yet another she was standing on the stage perfectly rendered almost as if a picture had been taken and transferred to the paper, and a third had her leaning against a broken Doric column next to a pool of water beside a small stream cascading over a series of rocks.
Nina stared at the sketch, at how the person had captured her flat stomach, the hollow of her bellybutton, the way the cloth draped over her arm covering but doing nothing to conceal her areola and nipple. With the silken hair and face turned down and to the side Nina could just barely see the outline of her sharp nose but still easily recognized herself in the sketch.
